The Rejected Mate (Elaine and Michael) novel Chapter 86

The last of the afternoon sun sliding through stained glass and painting the floor in bruised colors. Lucius sat with his hands folded on the heavy oak table, his face a map of lines that deepened with each word he spoke.

“Rejecting a mate is a taboo with our kind,” he said at last, his voice low and controlled but threaded with a disappointment that made it sharper than any command. “But what you did- marking another when you have a fated mate…that is something never done.” He let the sentence hang like a verdict.

Michael’s shoulders sagged. He had already said little; now he lowered his head, as if the room itself were pressing on him. “And you said your father commanded you to do it?” Lucius asked, not unkindly, as if trying to find any misstep that might soften the blow.

“Yes,” Michael answered, the single word a brittle admission. It carried with it the echo of obedience, of family orders that cut deeper than loyalty to the pack.

Lucius’s jaw tightened. “I will have to inform the council about this. It is unwritten law that we do not interfere with fated mates. What you all did to Elaine is wrong in every aspect—and it will not go unpunished.” The room seemed to shiver at the finality of that statement.

“Where is Elaine now?” he asked, softer. Even anger had limits where Elaine was concerned.

“She is with me,” Darius answered before Michael could. He rose a fraction, the movement of a man who was used to standing at the center of storms. “She is my chosen mate. Once this situation with her mating with Michael is resolved, we will return to my pack and announce it officially.”

Lucius studied Darius for a long heartbeat, then turned back to Michael with a grim line to his mouth. “Her mating with Michael is weak because he already marked someone else. It won’t cause any pain when they reject each other–it will be a formality.” The word “weak” landed heavily, an insult to Michael’s honor.

“Alpha Michael,” Lucius said, rising now, the rustle of his cloak loud in the quiet room, “I will inform the council about this, and you will hear from us what your pack’s punishment will be.

”

He paused as if to let the weight of the council’s reach sink in. Disappointment radiated from him in a way that made the room colder. Then he left–his footsteps slow, certain- leaving a draft of authority behind.

When the door clicked shut, the silence that followed was not peaceful. It was the thick, uneasy quiet that comes when a verdict has been delivered and everyone is left to reckon with it. Michael watched Lucius’s retreating back until the stained–glass light swallowed him, then turned his attention to Darius.

“Alpha Darius, if you could inform Elaine about this–that we will have to officially reject each other,” Michael said, speaking quickly as if to get the request out before the room could remind him of his failures.

“I will let her know,” Darius replied. “She will want to do it right away. Especially–we are scheduled to leave tomorrow.” There was a practical finality in his tone, the kind that suggested plans already made and people already packed.

Michael swallowed. “I want to meet Nathan as well,” he said hesitantly, the name tumbling out like something he had rehearsed in private and now had to offer in public.

For a moment, Darius’s expression did not change. Then the air around him tightened–the alpha aura, barely contained, rose like heat before a storm. His eyes darkened and his voice dropped. “What do you mean, you want to meet my son?” he asked, incredulous and suddenly dangerous.

“There is no reason for you to see my son,” Darius continued, as if answering himself before Michael could.

“He is my son, Alpha,” Michael said, the words spilling in a rush now, as if they had been bottled for too long. “I was not informed that he survived. We were told that Elaine miscarried -so how is Nathan my son? How does this happen?” Confusion, anger, and something like grief sharpened each question.

Darius’s stance hardened; he rose to his full height. “Again, Alpha. Nathan is my son. You have no claim over him. I will inform Elaine of the need for you to reject each other, but that is it. Our son has nothing to do with you or this pack. Understand this, Alpha: for my son and my mate, I will go to any war.” The promise in his voice was iron–unquestionable and final.

Without another word, he turned and strode out. The door sighed shut behind him, leaving Michael alone with the echo of Darius’s vow and the heavy, accusing quiet of a room that had borne witness to something it hoped never to see again.

Michael stayed where he was, palms clenched at his sides, a storm gathering behind eyes that had once believed in straightforward loyalties. Outside, the pack grounds hummed with evening life–distant howls, the soft scuff of paws.